the music that we make
by nevermore199
Summary: They do say that we want what we can't have. Maybe that's why I, the musically challenged, fell for the guy who played the most beautiful music on the face of the earth. One-shot, DS Cute, Griffin x Jill.


_a couple of starting notes: i've eliminated the use of the sprite station in regards to record-playing, because it just overcomplicates things. instead, the actual record player is used. huzzah._

_also, i've incorporated parts of one or two of griffin's heart events into here. if you recognize them, you're kind of cool._

_also also: beta-read by Mage the Observer. much appreciation!_

_now, on with the story._

* * *

To say that my mom is a music lover would be a huge understatement. She lives and breathes music. She can play piano, guitar, and drums with the skill of a pro, and her singing can drive men to tears. And she passed down her love for music to me. The record player in my house gets more than frequent use.

But my mom wanted me to be a musician, too—and when four years of piano lessons yielded nothing but the knowledge that I didn't have the knack for plunking tunes out of white keys, my first guitar lesson started and ended with me breaking every string, and I never once managed to blow anything but squeaky air out of every wind instrument I tried, we were both forced to admit that I wasn't going to be a musician. Fast-forward fifteen years or so, to my father's death, and here I am in Forget-Me-Not Valley, following in the footsteps of the other half of my family tree.

As a result of all my failed efforts at musicianship, I've always admired anyone who could play an instrument. And coincidentally, there are plenty of musically gifted people in Forget-Me-Not Valley. Lumina may not be the best piano player in the world, but give her a year or two and she'll be going places with all that talent. Gustafa _writes_ all the music he plays—impressive to someone like me who can't even write a haiku, much less all those songs.

And Griffin…well, there aren't words to describe how beautiful his music is.

* * *

I first heard him play near the end of my first spring in Forget-Me-Not. With all the work I'd had to do since starting the farm, it was the first night that I'd actually had time to come to the Blue Bar for a drink after work. Of course, because I was the luckiest human being on the face of the earth, it was raining buckets. But I wanted a drink, and by golly, I was going to have one.

When I arrived, Griffin was the only one there. He was standing behind the counter, cleaning a glass. He looked up when he heard me walking in.

"Jill!" he said. "Come on in."

"Hey, Griffin," I said, shaking myself off a little. "Man, it's really coming down out there."

"Yeah, it's been like that all day." Griffin set the glass aside. "Probably the reason we're so quiet tonight. Not even Murrey's been in."

"Where's Muffy?" I asked, stepping up to the counter.

"I sent her to bed early," Griffin replied. "She was kind of tired, and we're not getting any business tonight anyway."

"Until now," I said with a slight smile.

"Right." Griffin returned my smile. "What can I get for you?"

"Oh, um…" I blushed a little. "I actually haven't had a drink here yet. So I don't really know what's on the menu."

"Oh, that's right!" Griffin nodded. "You just came in the one day to introduce yourself, didn't you?"

"Yeah." I'd made it a point to get around to saying hello to everyone within my first few days, and when I'd come by the Blue Bar, it was in the early afternoon and the bar itself wasn't open.

"Well, then I have just the thing for you." Griffin turned around to one of the shelves. "When I was shopping in town last week, I found this new kind of juice on sale. I haven't even opened it yet. You can be the first to try it."

"Sounds good." I watched as Griffin brought out a large bottle of pale yellow juice and poured me a glass. He pushed the full glass over to me.

"Let me know what you think," he said as I wrapped my hand around it.

I nodded, then lifted the glass to my lips and took a sip. Immediately, I smiled. "This is really good, Griffin."

"Is it, now?" Griffin reached under the counter and pulled out a second glass. "Well, then maybe I'll try some myself." He poured some juice into the glass and took a drink, and his face lit up. "Well. This is good."

"Yeah," I said with a nod. "You're going to put it out, right?"

"Guess I will."

"Well, then." I smiled a little. "Maybe I'll have to come by here more often."

Griffin opened his mouth to answer, but was interrupted by the sound of the door in the back opening. "Griffin?"

We both turned to see Muffy standing in the doorway. "Oh, Muffy," Griffin said. "You're still awake?"

"Yeah—the rain. I couldn't sleep." Muffy noticed me and beamed. "Oh, Jill! You finally came for a drink!"

"Finally had the time," I replied. "But it looks like I'm the only one."

"Oh, yeah. It's all this rain." Muffy grimaced. "Horrible weather. I really hope it's nicer out tomorrow." She let out a long sigh. "Well, I guess I'm going to go back up and try to get some sleep. Good night, you two."

"Night," Griffin and I both said as Muffy turned and wandered back into the back.

"I guess I'll be closing pretty soon," Griffin said once we'd heard Muffy clambering up the ladder to her room. "It's almost nine."

"Oh—is it?" I took another drink. "Huh. I guess I should get home soon, too. Put the record on and get some sleep of my own."

"Record?" Griffin raised an eyebrow.

"I kind of have trouble sleeping without music," I explained. "And the house came with a record player, so I bought a few. I put one on to sleep every night."

"I didn't know you liked music."

"Like?" I laughed. "I _love_ music. My mom was kind of a musician herself. I tried, but I never quite had the talent for it. I love listening, though."

"Really?" Griffin chuckled. "Well. Trying is what counts. And music is a wonderful thing to love."

"Yeah. It is." I traced around the circle of my glass, looking at Griffin. "Do you play anything, Griffin?"

"Oh—well." Griffin glanced down for a moment, suddenly looking shy. "I do play the guitar."

"Really?" I said. "That's so cool. My mom plays, too. Are you good?"

"I'm all right," Griffin replied quietly, looking down again.

"So play me a song," I said excitedly, pressing myself against the counter. "Please?"

"I…" Griffin swallowed, obviously uncomfortable. "I don't know…"

"Come on, Griffin, please?" I blinked at him endearingly. "I really want to hear you play. Please?"

"Well…I don't usually play while the bar's open," he protested. "I prefer to play during my quiet time when there's no one else around…"

"It's just me! I won't laugh at you if you break a string or something," I promised. "I did that my first time taking guitar lessons. Broke every single one."

Griffin let out a laugh. "Every string?"

"Yeah." I nodded. "Every single string. My teacher threw me out."

Griffin sighed. "Wow. That's something." He looked at me for a moment. "All right. Come on to the back."

I could barely hold down my anticipation as I followed Griffin to the back room. He picked his guitar up from the corner and sat down on his bed. "Just one song," he said. "And then I'm going to close down for the night."

"One song," I agreed, moving to stand in front of him.

"All right." Griffin looked down at his guitar, then back up at me. "Let's see…Ah, I know. Here's a nice one."

Then he took in a deep breath, and he began to play.

The entire song, I stared at him, my eyes wide as I drank him in. Before long, I couldn't hear the rain hammering on the roof outside, or the thunder crashing along with it. All I could hear was the sound of the song Griffin played, the murmur of his voice humming a soft tune.

It was the most beautiful sound I'd ever heard.

"Wow," I said when he was finished. "Wow. Griffin…that was amazing."

Griffin's face colored slightly. "You liked it?"

"It was beautiful." I nodded, grinning enthusiastically. "Really beautiful."

"Thank you very much, Jill." Griffin set his guitar aside and stood up. "I appreciate it. But now, it's getting late. So…"

"Oh, right." I sighed. "Okay. I need to get home too." I turned and walked to the door, but looked back with my hand on the doorknob. "Thanks for playing for me, Griffin."

"Of course." Griffin inclined his head. "Come back sometime, all right?"

"Yeah, sure. Hopefully I'll have more time this summer." I hesitated. "Griffin?"

"Yes?"

"Would you play a song for me again sometime?"

Griffin's eyes widened a little. "You really want me to?"

"Yeah. I do."

"Well, we'll see."

"Okay." I opened the door. "Good night, Griffin."

"Good night, Jill."

I walked out into the main room and out the door, and proceeded to get completely soaked on the walk back home. But I barely noticed. And after I'd dried off and crawled into bed, I spent what seemed like forever staring at the ceiling, wide awake. Because even with the record I had on and the rain coming down harder than ever outside, Griffin's song was still the only thing I heard.

* * *

After that, I stopped in at the Blue Bar for nighttime drinks a lot more often. But I also came by during the early afternoon sometimes, when Griffin was alone in the bar. And at some point during every visit, without fail, I would ask him to play me another song. Although he didn't comply every time, more often than not he would reach for his guitar with a sigh and a shake of the head, and before long the intoxicating sound of his music would begin to fill my ears again.

Before and after the songs, we talked. About anything. Everything. Griffin was easy to talk to. There were so many things he knew about the world, so much he'd seen. And even when I started to ramble on about some farming thing or other, he never acted like he was bored.

"So how did you get into the guitar?" I asked him one day. "I mean, there are so many instruments out there; why'd you pick this one?"

"Actually, it started when I found this guitar in the back of the bar one day, back when I was a kid," Griffin answered, patting the guitar fondly. "I asked my dad about it, and he said that it had belonged to our ancestors. And, I don't know…after that, I just had the urge to learn it. So I asked my dad to teach me, and he agreed."

"That's cool." I cracked a smile as I remembered my own failed attempt to learn the guitar. "I always kind of wanted to play the piano, but I was never very good at it. My teacher said that I held my fingers wrong."

"Ah, well." Griffin chuckled. "At least you can't break the strings on a piano."

"Not without reaching in holding a pair of scissors," I retorted. "My little cousin did that once. He was going through a rebellious phase."

Griffin winced. "Wow."

"Yeah." I glanced at Griffin's guitar, then to the window. "Hey, Griffin?"

"Yes, Jill?"

"How well did you know my dad?"

Griffin froze, obviously shocked by my question. "Wow. Well." He sighed. "He didn't drink that much, so he wasn't in at the bar often. But when he did come in, he always seemed so cheerful. Happy. Anyone who came into the bar feeling down didn't feel that way by the time he left."

"Really?"

"Yeah." Griffin sighed again, and his eyes misted over. "He was a wonderful man."

"Yeah," I said softly. "He was."

Griffin looked at me curiously. "Why do you ask?"

"I didn't…" I closed my eyes. "I didn't really know him that well as a kid. He was always traveling, especially after he met Takakura. And then he moved here to take care of the ranch, and Mom and I didn't come with him." I swallowed, feeling tears pricking at the backs of my eyelids. "Maybe…maybe we should have."

"I'm sorry," Griffin said quietly. "I didn't mean to pry."

"No, it's fine." I shook my head. "You weren't prying, Griffin."

Griffin's hand patted my shoulder comfortingly. "All right."

We sat like that for a moment—him patting my shoulder, me staring at the floor. Then I looked up at him. "Griffin—"

"Griffin?"

We both turned to see a startled Muffy standing in the doorway. "Oh, Muffy!" Griffin said. "You're back early."

"Yeah…" Muffy looked at me. "Hey, Jill. What are you doing here?"

"Oh…" I got off the bed and stood up, smiling weakly. "I was just dropping in to say hi."

"Oh, okay." Muffy started to head for the ladder at the back of the room, but stopped when she happened to glance over and see Griffin's guitar. "Griffin, you have your guitar out!"

"Yeah, I do." Griffin looked down and rubbed the back of his neck, embarrassed. "I was playing a little for Jill."

"Really?" Muffy said, obviously surprised. "Wow." She turned to me. "Griffin doesn't play for other people much. He must really like you!"

In an instant, Griffin and I both went bright red. "Um—" I said.

"He's only played for me once or twice," Muffy continued. "I keep telling him he should play for the customers. They'd really like it, you know? Maybe we'd even get more business."

I turned to Griffin. "You've played for Muffy, too?" The question sounded completely idiotic; I knew it as soon as I'd asked.

"Oh, well…" Griffin mumbled, looking from me to the floor to her.

"I should go," I said suddenly. Muffy and Griffin both looked at me, and I took a step toward the door. "I've stayed a while already, and I really should get back to work—"

"Oh. All right." Muffy smiled and waved at me. "Good seeing you, Jill!"

"I'll see you guys later," I said hurriedly as I practically ran for the door. "Bye!"

"Jill—" I heard Griffin say behind me.

But I didn't look back.

* * *

When I got back to the farm, I ran straight inside my house and slammed the door. I stood there for a while, breathing heavily, shaking slightly.

When I finally caught my breath, I realized that there were tears in my eyes.

"What's the matter with me?" I muttered, wiping furiously at my eyes. I didn't understand. I had no reason to be upset. So Muffy had come home. So my time with Griffin had been cut short. So Griffin had played the guitar for Muffy. So what? What was the big deal?

But even as I asked myself that question, I knew what the problem was. Somehow all those days I'd spent in the back of the bar with Griffin, talking and listening to him play—they'd seemed like something special. Something meant for him and me alone.

And then came Muffy.

Of course he'd played for her before. She lived right above him. They'd worked together for years. They had to be close.

Slowly, I sank to the floor, my whole body trembling as I tried not to cry.

Why did it matter if he'd played his guitar for Muffy? It was just music. And Griffin and I were just friends. So none of it mattered, right? Right?

Right?

* * *

That night, when I went to put a record on, I stopped short. After a long pause, I sighed and turned away. For some reason, I just didn't want to hear any music tonight.

I lay awake in bed in the dark and silence for a few minutes, fidgeting under the blankets. Somehow the silence seemed loud, ringing.

Unbearable.

I threw the covers aside and walked back over to the record player. Underneath was a compartment where I kept my records. I dug through them until I pulled out a particular one called "Quiet Winter." It was one of my favorites.

I'd told Griffin that, and he said that he'd heard it before, at a live concert in the city. That he thought it was a great song.

I put the record on and went back to bed. And at some point I must have fallen asleep, because when I opened my eyes, the sunlight was streaming through the window.

* * *

From then on, I stayed away from the Blue Bar. If I had time after work, I went to bed early. Avoiding Griffin was easy since he didn't leave the bar that much. All I had to do was watch the main road on Wednesdays, when I knew he went to town, and make sure not to be anywhere near there in the morning or late evening.

I didn't listen to music as much anymore, except at night, when I still needed it to fall asleep. I tried not to think about how much I used to listen, or about the days I spent with Griffin.

I tried not to, but I always did. And I felt so lonely.

* * *

On a cold day late that winter, I was walking over the bridge to the mine when I heard someone call out my name. "Jill! Hey, Jill!"

I turned, and stiffened when I saw Muffy hurrying toward me.

"Hi, Muffy," I said, smiling tightly.

"Jill." Muffy stopped in front of me, breathing a little fast. "Can I talk to you for a minute?"

"I was kind of on my way somewhere," I replied, glancing at the road behind me.

"Please, Jill? It'll just take a minute."

I bit my lip. "Oh, all right."

We both turned to face the water of the river flowing underneath us. Muffy swallowed. "So…the Starry Night festival is tomorrow."

"I know," I said offhandedly, watching a fish dart through the clear water.

"And…" Muffy struggled with her words for a few moments, then sighed. "Look. Griffin's been really lonely without you around."

"What are you talking about?" I turned to look at Muffy. "He has his customers. And you."

"Look—" Muffy let out a frustrated groan. "He misses you, Jill. And I think you should go and ask him to the Starry Night festival."

I stared at Muffy incredulously. "Why in the world are you asking me this?"

"He's going to be all alone tomorrow," Muffy explained, a pleading note entering her voice. "And I know that being with you would make him happy."

"Alone?" Now I was confused. "What do you mean? Won't you be with him?"

"I'm leaving for the city tomorrow. I'm spending the Starry Night festival with my boyfriend in the city."

My jaw practically dropped open. "What?"

"I've been going out with this guy in the city," Muffy repeated. "Since the beginning of summer. He's such a sweet guy, not like most of the people I've gone out with."

"But…" Muffy had a boyfriend who wasn't Griffin? For some reason, I could hardly wrap my mind around the concept. "What about Griffin?"

"What—" Muffy stopped. "Jill…you didn't think I was in love with Griffin, did you?"

My face flushed deep red, and I started to stammer an excuse. "I, um—well—"

"Jill!" Muffy laughed, long and loud. "Griffin is a great guy and a really good friend. But that's all he is—a friend. We've never been anything more."

"But you said—" I swallowed hard. "You said that he played for you."

"Played? Oh, the guitar?" Muffy shrugged. "So what? Like I said, we're really good friends. We've known each other for years. It doesn't mean we're in _love_ with each other!"

Despite the cold air, I felt completely hot—from the embarrassment that was boiling on my face.

"B-But…" I shook my head, hardly willing to believe it. "But I…you…"

"Jill." Muffy took me by the hands and fixed me with an earnest, pleading face. "Griffin has had girlfriends before. But in all the time I've known Griffin, I've never heard him talk about anyone the way he talks about you."

"He talks about me?" My voice pitched up high. "What do you mean?"

"He's always going on about you! Always with Jill said this and Jill said that. He glows when he talks about you. He cares about you so much; can't you see that?"

I bit down hard on my lip, feeling tears welling in my eyes. My hands were beginning to shake inside Muffy's.

"Jill." Muffy smiled. "Go find him. Don't let him be alone tomorrow night. Okay?"

I opened my mouth to answer. But before the words came out, I was running.

* * *

"I'm coming!" the voice yelled from inside the bar.

There were footsteps, and then the door opened.

And there was Griffin.

His eyes widened with shock, and for a long time, all he did was stare at me. Finally, he said, "Jill. What are you doing here?"

"The Starry Night festival is tomorrow," I replied.

Griffin looked confused. "What?"

I locked eyes with him. "You weren't planning on spending it alone, were you?"

We stood there staring at each other for a while longer—him surprised and bewildered, me determined.

Eventually, he stepped aside and said, "Would you like to come in?"

"Yes," I said without hesitation. A grin slowly spread across my face. "I'd love to."

_

* * *

_

i accidentally deleted my old game file and ended up with a new one. i decided to go for griffin this time, which ended up inspiring this one-shot.

_i was kind of hoping it would turn out longer, honestly. but considering my usual word count, this is probably pretty good._

_hope you all liked it!_


End file.
